| poetry by Bruce Boston
MASTERS AND GODS
|
poetry by Bruce Boston
MASTERS AND GODS
Buildings stood like monuments.
Pristine and undisturbed.
Across deserted blocks
not a voice could be heard.
The kitchens all were stocked.
The closets full of clothes.This world awaited someone.
Who it was we did not know.
Beyond the city's boundaries
the forest flourished green,
filled with various flora
yet no fauna to be seen.Then we began to notice
things that did not jibe.
The forest was synthetic.
Its plants were not alive.
The houses had been built
at exactly the same time.The food could not be eaten.
The clothes were paper thin.
This world awaited no one
but some fool it could take in.
We jumped to our conclusions.
They may not have been right.Yet who would build a mockup
on such monumental scale
but some race of super beings
that remained beyond our sight,
who watched our every action
as if we were laboratory mice?We fled that world in panic.
Let's face it: Call it fright!
For across a hundred stars,
a thousand years and more,
we had always stood alone
as masters of the stellar night.We know it's only paranoia
that stalks within our heads.
Our ship is safe in subspace,
just another blip of light.
Still we feel the eyes upon us
of gods we took for dead.